


A Moment Captured

by SilverCherie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cameo Lee Jordan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverCherie/pseuds/SilverCherie
Summary: Percy Weasley hated Quidditch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> So this is it. My first attempt at fanfiction on ao3. It feels so weird yet exciting to take my first step as a writer on this website-- hopefully I get to grow as one on here as well! 
> 
> Since this is a co-owned account, I feel like I should distinguish myself from my other half-- I'm Cherie of SilverCherie. 
> 
> This is also my first attempt at Percy/Oliver-- I only recently discovered this amazing ship, so I'm still in the process of getting to know and understand these characters.
> 
> Constructive criticism and comments are always welcome!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> *Thank you to theheadgirl on tumblr for supporting and helping me edit this story!

Percy Weasley hated Quidditch.

Hate is too strong of a word. Maybe.. Uninterested? Dispassionate?

Whatever it was, it drove Oliver Wood bonkers. How could it not? In Wood’s eyes, it was always Quidditch. The adrenaline, the flying, the camaraderie, the enthusiasm. It consumed his every waking moment. Even as a spectator, it was impossible not to be emotionally involved. 

But somehow, Percy Weasley always seemed immune to it all. For six years of living in the same dormitory, nothing about him screamed passion. It bugged the shit out of Oliver. 

Despite the cheers of the hundreds of Hogwarts students at Quidditch matches, it was impossible to get a reaction out of the Head Boy, which seemed to be the one that mattered the most to Oliver. Over time, he thought he would get over it. Be indifferent to what Weasley thought of him or Quidditch. But the dull ache inside never seemed to go away.

The breaking point came when finally-- finally Gryffindor claimed the Quidditch House Cup. After a losing streak that lasted for what seemed like an eternity, Oliver Wood was a part of a winning team. 

Even amongst the crowd of Gryffindors cheering him on, his own team and classmates carrying him on their shoulders in a victory lap around the common room, he still desperately seeks the attention of Percy, smiling and proud looking at him. He’s nowhere in sight. 

Somehow even in his proudest moment, he feels a sharp tightening in his chest. He doesn’t see me. Because it was never about Quidditch. At some point, I fooled myself into thinking that if Percy cared about Quidditch, he would (hopefully and eventually) care about me.

A few days later..

“Hey Wood! Wood! Wait up!”

Oliver turned around to see Lee Jordan running past crowds of students up to catch up to him, beaming.

“Jordan.”

“Finally! I’ve been yelling after you for a while. Guess you’re still on about Saturday’s win, innit?”

He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t care. The tightening, dull ache in his chest started again.

“I guess so. What do you need me for?” 

“Pictures! I got some great ones during and after the game. Since you're the captain and all, I thought you should get first choice. Take a look through and pick the ones you want.”

\-------------

There must be at least a hundred photos. How did he have the time to take all of these while commentating? 

To be fair, most of them were close ups of Potter’s Firebolt. Wood smiled. After all the panic about the broom being jinxed by Sirius Black and not getting it back in time for the match, he was glad Potter managed to pull through for them.

And still, he couldn’t move past his heartache. How foolish. 

So many reasons to relish in his success, in the team’s success and yet---

He froze. The lighting in the common room was awful but there was no mistaking it. In this picture, he was being carried around and just near the staircase to the dorms, he saw Percy. 

Wood blinked again before taking another look at it. 

The red hair, the horn-rimmed glasses. It was Percy. Smiling and cheering. For me. 

Maybe he didn’t hate Quidditch after all...


End file.
